


The Water's All Around (Can't You See I'm Drowning)

by woa



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Follows Canon, Gen, Lots of confusion, Reincarnation, ancient power, dark themes, mostly - Freeform, not-strictly-human!stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-05-20 04:37:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5991919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woa/pseuds/woa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Starts right before season 1 and hopefully will continue on to the current season.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wounded and Flawless](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3387557) by [Scavengersdaughter2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scavengersdaughter2/pseuds/Scavengersdaughter2). 



> Starts right before season 1 and hopefully will continue on to the current season.

The water was rushing an roaring, filling the room quickly.

I can barely remember a time when I wasn't drowning, or constantly afraid of drowning. 

There had been a time, though, eons ago.

The water was up to my stomach.

I tried to prepare myself.

The water was cold against my chest.

I tried to remember my life, for soon this one would be over.

It was splashing against my chin and mouth, so I pushed off the floor to keep my head above water.

I needed to remember, because if I started out blank and confused survival would be hard, almost impossible, and surely short.

The top of my head, above the rising water hit the ceiling.

It was nearly over.

I tried to ingrain everything I need to remember, so I would get them later as dreams.

My past, the water, the curse, the power, the cycle. 

The room was entirely filled.

I knew, from previously attempts at escape that I could hold my breath for an impossibly long time.

The power.

But there was no point, this time, it was done.

So with one last thought on the past, I let go, embracing death and greeting the new cycle wit as much enthusiasm as I could.

It wasn't much.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles woke up in a sweat, gasping for breath. 

It was the 5th straight night that Stiles had dreamt of drowning.

It terrified him.

Dreams of Drowning had been a regular occurrence when he had been a child.

But he had thought that he had outgrown them.

Or maybe they had just been replaced with nightmares of his mother's sickness.

After catching his breath Stiles rolled over and glanced at his alarm clock.

5:52

He groaned, he had hoped that he would have been able to sleep in on his last day of summer vacation.

Instead Stiles got up and went over and sat at his desk, opening his computer.

He wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

All day long whenever Stiles would space out he could almost hear it.

Rushing water, crashing like a high waterfall. 

And out of the corner of his eye Stiles would see- or he thought he saw- water. 

Not a lot of it, just enough to coat the floor, just enough for his shoes to feel wet. 

Maybe listening in on his dad's phone calls wasn't a good idea. 

Not when he was dreaming of drowning vividly and his Adderall didn't seem to be working and his chest already felt too tight.

 

But there was half a body somewhere out there, and what better way to distract himself?

Convincing Scott had been too easy, but convincing Scott was always easy.

Except for giving up on the whole lacrosse thing.

Stiles was only on the team because Scott was on the team.

 

Stiles had been outside, in the woods, at night many times before.

Sometimes when he couldn’t sleep or when he woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare Stiles would take a walk instead of reading or learning too much about random topics, like male circumcision, on the internet.

And when he had been younger, Stiles had sleepwalked often, but he grew out of that.

At least Stiles hopes that he had, because between his ADHD, his anxiety, the nightmares, the ever looming possibility that his mother’s disease had been passed down to him, and the water (out of the corner of his eye, in the mirror, dripping down the walls, through the cracks in the ceiling, on the floor soaking through his socks and shoes, in storm clouds on sunny days, everywhere) it was nearly too much.

So he and Scott walked through the woods, Scott making so much noise, stomping around, while Stiles’ own footfalls were feather light, but squished in Stiles' mind. 

"We're seriously doing this?"

Stiles didn't appreciate the level of exasperation in his friend's tone.

"You're the one who always bitches that nothing never happens in this town!"

Actually, that was more him than Scott, but it didn't matter.

He waved the flashlight around, shining the light on the wet ground, on the trees, and at Scott. 

"I was trying to get a good night sleep before practice tomorrow..."

Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Right, because, sitting on the bench asks such a heavy effort!"

He knew he was a sarcastic shit, but it was more habit than anything now.

"No, because... I'm playing this year. In fact I'm playing first line..."

The water was rising and Stiles almost didn't pay attention to his friends breathing.

"Hey, that's a spirit. Everyone should have a dream. Even if it's an unrealistic one."

_Don't think about the water_ , he thought.

"Just asking by curiosity, which part of the body are we looking for?"

The water was still rising, and Stiles' heartbeat began to pick up, so he didn't catch what Scott had asked at first.

"Huh... I didn't even think about that."

He had just needed a distraction.

"And er... What if the one who killed the body is still out here?"

_Would drowning be worse than being murdered?_ Stiles thought.

"Also something I didn't think about!"

Half the time he didn't even care.

"It's comforting to know that you planned this up with you usual attention to details!"

This is why Scott was his friend, he's also a sarcastic little shit.

"I know!"

The two of them stopped, Scott to take a hit from his inhaler and for Stiles to close his eyes and try to imagine a desert, or something to get rid of the water, it was waist high, now.  

"Maybe the asthmatic should be the one who holds the flashlight, huh?"

The both dropped when they saw the officers in front of them, but Stiles shot up and ran.

He had been under the water.

"Wait!"

Stiles was not going to stop, it was pouring, it was a flash flood, his chest tightened.

"Come on!"

Stiles knew that the water wasn't real, but for a moment he was terrified for Scott's life.

"Wait up! Stiles!"

Stiles didn't stop, didn't plan on stopping, but he was grabbed by one of his dad's deputies.

He thrashed around a bit, the water was rising, he had to get away, go to higher ground, go, go, go.

"Hang on, hang on... This little delinquent belongs to me."

Stiles didn't look at his dad, didn't want to see the disappointment.

"Dad, how you're doing?"

The water was receding, and the rain had stopped.

"So you're listening all my phone calls?"

_I need to know that you're safe,_ Stiles thought.

"No! .... Not the boring ones..."

His dad reached out and clasped a hand on his shoulder.

For the first time that day, the ground beneath Stiles' feet felt dry.

"So where is your usual partner in crimes?"

"Who, Scott ? Scott's home. He said he wanted to get a good night sleep before first day of school tomorrow. There's just me... In the woods... Alone..."

_Stiles prayed that Scott stayed hidden._

"Scott you're out there? Scott?"

His father shined his flashlight, looking for Scott, but didn't see him.

Stiles smiled to himself.

"Well young man, I'm gonna walk you back to your car, and you and I, we're gonna have a discussion about something called violation of privacy."

Stiles followed him, willingly.

Though he was worried about Scott, alone in the woods, Stiles was focused on the dry interior of the police car. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles’ night was spent in a thankfully dry bed.

His dad had driven him home and stayed with him until he had to go back to the station, and his presence calmed Stiles.

He slept through the night, even with Scott’s phone call.

But when he woke up in the morning and stared at his ceiling he saw water droplets drip, drip, dripping down.

His dad was still asleep from his late night at the station, but Stiles saw his note on the fridge

“Have a good day at school, son, try not to get into trouble on the first day.”

He wrote one back, making no promises and telling his dad good luck on his case, grabbed a pop tart and headed out the door.

 

When he got to school the first thing he said to Scott was

“So, let's see this.”

Frantically looking around at the small puddles Scott lifted up his shirt to show him the bite.

Stiles looked at it, it seemed to be healing.

Scott was talking, _pay attention Stiles._

“It was too dark to see very much, but I'm pretty sure it was a wolf.”

Stiles rolled his eyes

“A wolf bit you? No, not a chance.”

He started walking

“I heard a wolf howling.”

_Sure Scott._

“No you didn't!”

Scott shot him a hurt look

“What do you mean I didn't, how do you know what I heard?”

Stiles sighed internally

“Because California doesn't have wolves for like sixty years.”

“Really?”

Stiles gave him a look.

“Yes, really. Look, there's no wolf in California.”

Scott shrugged.

“Well, if you don't believe me about the wolf, then you're definitely not gonna believe when I tell you I found the body.”

Stiles skidded to a stop.

“Are you kidding me?”

_This was big._

“I wish. I'm gonna have nightmares for a month!”

_Welcome to my life, Scotty_ Stiles thought.

On the outside he said 

“That is freaking awesome!” 

and spazzed out a little, he maybe took extra Adderall in his car. 

“I mean, seriously, it's the best thing that ever happened in this town, since ... the birth of Lydia Martin.” 

Stiles had had a crush on Lydia Martin since before he could remember. 

She was beautiful and smart, though she kept the latter to herself.

Stiles wasn’t sure if he was actually in love with her, in love with the idea of her, or in love with how in control she was. 

“Hey, Lydia! You look... like you're gonna ignore me!” 

Not that Stiles could blame her. 

He turned to his friend. 

“You're the cause of this, you know?” 

Scott raised an eyebrow and sarcastically agreed 

“Uh-huh...” 

Stiles continued, even though it wasn’t actually Scott’s fault. 

"Dragging me down your nerd depth! I'm a nerd by association.”

Stiles shook his head and tried to focus as they entered the school.”

 

It was hard to concentrate in school.

Or even harder than usual.

The constant ‘drip, drip, drip’ was making Stiles twitchy.

He thought about the body in the woods, and about Scott’s wound, and about his dad, and about how so fragile human life was and…

He tried to focus.

 

Scott was focused, focused on the new girl.

 _There's something wrong with her_ , Stiles thought.

Something about her was giving him bad vibes.

She seemed nice enough, and it wasn’t jealousy because of Scott’s attention being on her and not him.

Something was just… off.

 

He was surprised and worried about Scott’s new talent, but he had bigger problems to worry about.

The water was getting higher; it didn’t help that he was stuck on the bench.

That girl- Allison, water was dripping off her and Stiles didn’t know what that meant, so he counted to himself in his head, tried to calm himself down and distract himself.

 

Stiles was still distracted when he and Scott walked back into the woods.

“I don't know what it was! It was like... I had all the time in the world to catch the ball! And that's not the only weird thing. I hear staffs I shouldn't be able to hear; I smell things..."

Stiles was trying to focus on where they were going

“You smell things? Like what?”

He thought he was the weird one in this relationship.

“Like the mint gum in your pocket.”

Stiles scoffed and dug through his pockets.

“I don't have any mint gum in my...”

_Oh, a pack of mint gum._

_Changing the subject now_ ,

“So, all of that started with the bite!”

Scott looked slightly terrified.

“What if it's like an infection? Like... my body is full of adrenaline before a shock or something...”

 _Oh, Scott_ , Stiles thought and rolled his eyes.

“You know what, I actually think I heard it... It's a specific kind of infection.”

Stiles smirked but turned away from Scott.

“Are you serious?”

Stiles bit his lip to keep from laughing.

“Yeah. I think it's called "lycanthropy"”

Scott’s eyes widened.

“What is that? Is that bad?”

Stiles nodded.

“Oh, yeah, it's the worst! But only once a month.”

“Once a month?”

“Uh-huh. On the night of the full moon.”

Stiles tilted his head back and howled.

It sounded more real than Stiles thought it would.

Scott hit him, bring him back to the situation.

They start to look for Scott’s inhaler.

“You're the one who heard a wolf!”

Stiles laughed.

“It's not funny, there's seriously something wrong with me!”

“I know! You're a werewolf!”

Stiles laughed again then said a bit more seriously.

“Okay, obviously I'm kidding. But if you see me trying to melt all the silver I can find it's because Friday is this full moon.”

Scott wasn’t paying attention to him, he was focused on the ground.

“I could have sworn it was there. I saw the body, the stag running... I dropped my inhaler.”

Stiles looked behind them and saw a wave rolling towards them.

“Maybe the killer moved the body.”

_Get up Scott, get up._

“If he did it I hope he didn't take my inhaler, that thing costs like eighty bucks.”

Stiles turned around again and jumped a little, there was a man walking towards them, the wave following him.

Stiles hit Scott’s crouched form and he stood up and looks at the man.

“What are you doing here? Huh? This is private propriety!”

He stopped moving and the wave stood still behind him.

It took Stiles a second to respond.

“Um... Sorry, man, we didn't know.”

There was something off about this man, too.

A different kind of ‘off’ than the new girl, Allison, though.

Scott spoke up

“Yeah we were just... looking for something... Uh, forget it...”

The mystery man scowled and threw Scott's inhaler at him and walked off, the wave staying where it was not moving closer or following the man.

Stiles followed Scott out of the forest, thinking of the man and how he seemed familiar.

He waved good bye to Scott and drove home.

The rain falling was just normal rain for once.


	4. Chapter 4

Derek had been shot.

Stiles felt like he was taking that fact rather well.

Especially given the fact that Roscoe now had a couple blood stains that Stiles would probably never get out.

Never mind that the bullet hole wasn’t healing!

As Derek crashed blindly down on to the stacked bags just outside of the animal clinic Stiles followed behind, trying to step around all the puddles and looked at his phone.

“Does Northern blue monkshood mean anything to you?”

Stiles eyed the dripping water that was falling right next to Derek.

“It's a rare form of wolfsbane. He has to bring me the bullet.”

Stiles tore his gaze away and focused on Derek

“Why?”

Derek sighed and gave him a look that conveyed how dense Derek thought he was as well as how dire the situation was.

“Cause I'm gonna die without it.”

Stiles couldn’t help that his jaw dropped.

Derek may terrify him and be a total creep ~~and hot~~ , but Stiles couldn’t even think about him dying.

The sound of waves washed over him and he nodded stupidly.

 

Once inside Derek tore off his shirt and rummaged around while Stiles shut the door behind him and pocketed the spare key Scott had told them about.

Stiles’ attention wasn’t on Derek, but instead on the gushing water coming up from the grate in the floor under the metal table slab that he was leaning against, because he needed the support.

“Okay. You know, that really doesn't look like anything some echinacea and a good night of sleep couldn't take care of.”

_Focus, Stiles._

Derek turned to him

“When the infection reaches my heart, it'll kill me."

Stiles shuddered and leaned slightly to the right to avoid a new cluster of drips.

"Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?”

_Stay positive,_ Stiles thought.

“If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time - Last resort."

Derek held up some sort of device.

“Which is?”

Stiles felt like he really didn’t want to know.

Derek proved him right by answering

“You're gonna cut off my arm.”

Stiles gaped at him.

“Oh, my God. What if you bleed to death?”

“It'll heal if it works.”

Stiles shook his head.

“Ugh. Look - I don't know if I can do this.”

“Why not?”

“Well, because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone, and especially the blood!”

Derek gave him that look again, the one that Derek wore when he was reminded again of how human and useless Stiles was

“You faint at the sight of blood?”

“No”

_yes_

“But I might at the sight of a chopped - off arm!”

and he didn’t want to faint right now.

If he fainted here he would most surely drown.

“All right, fine. How about this? Either you cut off my arm, or I'm gonna cut off your head.”

“Okay, you know what, I'm so not buying your threats any - Oh, my God. Okay. All right, bought, sold. Totally. I'll do it. I'll do it. What? What are you doing? Holy God, what the hell is that?”

Stiles flailed as the black goop hit the metal slab rippling through and mixing with the thin layer of water on its surface.

“It's my body - Trying to heal itself.”

“Well, it's not doing a very good job of it.”

_Stop with the sarcasm, he could kill you._

“Now. You gotta do it now.”

“Look, honestly, I don't think I can.”

The water was up to his knees.

“Just do it!”

“Oh, my God. Okay, okay. Oh, my God. All right, here we go!”

Stiles gritted his teeth and moved forward in the water.

“Stiles!”

He stopped

“Scott?”

Scott came into the room and relief went through Stiles.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Stiles shook his head

“Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares.”

Though perhaps some new material to spice things up wouldn’t have been all that bad.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fast forwarded from the first episode to somewhere in the first season.  
> Panic attack and some concerned Derek.

 

Stiles wondered if being an asshole was a universal trait amongst werewolves, because Scotty wasn’t like this before the bite.

It wasn’t that Stiles wanted his friend to pay attention to him, and only him.

Scott was allowed to have other friends, it was just that it had been Scott and Stiles, only, for so long.

And there was the water… Stiles had never said anything to anyone, even his mother about the water that was all around him, all the time.

But his parents (now just his dad), Scott, and Mrs. McCall had been able to push away the water.

But ever since that night in the woods, ever since his dreams went back to drowning and not nightmares his mother, Scott’s presence wasn’t able to keep the water at bay, well _when_ he was present.

And since he wasn’t hanging out with Scott, Stiles hadn’t seen Mellissa in a while and so the only person left to save him from drowning was his father, who was more and more busy and less and less at home with the ‘animal’ attacks.

Stiles pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them trying to catch his breath in the bathroom at school.

It was third period and his class was watching a documentary about sea life and the water was too real, felt too close.

Stiles practically ran out of the room, thankful that Mr. Gran was one of the teachers who understood that he had anxiety problems and panic attacks and probably saw it on his face and therefore hadn’t stopped him.

But, Stiles wasn’t thinking about that now, with the water swishing around on the floor rising slowly but steadily all Stiles could think about was how Scott hadn’t followed him.

Scott who was seated right next to him.

Scott who wasn’t paying attention to the movie, let alone to his best friend- though his new werewolf senses should have picked up on Stiles’ anxiety right away- and was instead texting with Allison.

Stiles hiccupped in between the small sobs and wiped at the tears- or was that just more water?

He was shaking and was so cold, the water soaking him to the bone.

The bell would ring soon and Stiles couldn’t be late for Harris’ class.

Mr. Harris, the one teacher who didn’t take Stiles’ anxiety and panic attacks seriously, who didn’t care, who thought he was faking it for attention or to get out of work.

Even Coach recognized and acknowledged when Stiles was having a panic attack, even Coach had a heart.

But Stiles couldn’t get control, he couldn’t calm down, he couldn’t catch his breath, he was drowning.

The water was up to his neck and Stiles knew he need to stand up, but he was stuck.

He couldn’t move and all this thinking wasn’t helping.

Taking a long shaky breath Stiles tried to remember what his therapist had taught him, he tried to remember what he had done this morning.

He had gotten up, turned off his alarm clock, shuffled into the bathroom and took a quick scalding hot shower before his brain woke up completely so the water wouldn’t bother him as much.

He got dressed, he had to dig through his closet to find a pair of clean (enough) pants.

He had gone downstairs- jumping at the end, skipping the last 3 steps.

He had made himself and his dad toast and had started the coffee machine.

He ate his toast dry, stomach a bit queasy, but had spread sugar-free jam- grape- on his father’s.

He had taken his meds with milk… right?

Did he take his meds?

Did he?

Stiles’ breathing picked up a bit.

Yes.

He calmed down.

He took his meds with a glass of skim milk and had rushed out the door without saying good bye to his dad.

He hadn't said goodbye to his dad… he always said goodbye.

Stiles shook his head, going through his morning was meant to calm him down, but instead he now felt guilty.

What if something happened to his dad today…

He hadn’t said “Bye, Dad, love you!” like he usually did.

Oh god.

Oh god.

Oh god.

The bathroom door flew open, hitting the wall with a bang.

Stiles flinched and tried to back up even more into the corner of the last stall.

This particular bathroom was usually avoided, for no real reason, which was why Stiles had run all the way here from his class on the other side of the school.

Whoever had come in wasn’t moving and Stiles’ heartbeat picked up even more.

“Stilinski?”

Stiles’ head was too fuzzy, the water was up to his chin, he couldn’t place that voice, he just knew it wasn’t Scott.

Scott never called him Stilinski.

“Stilinski, I know you’re in here.”

That sounded like a threat to Stiles and he tried to make himself smaller.

“Stilinski…”

There was a pause and then.

“Stiles? It’s Derek. Derek Hale, I know you’re in here. I can hear you… and smell you, what happened?”

Stiles was confused.

Derek Hale?

The guy that terrified him, who wouldn’t give him or Scott a straight answer, who he had maybe accused of murdering his own sister, who was a fucking Sourwolf… what was he doing here?

“Stiles… you need to calm down, you’re having a panic attack, just breathe.”

Stiles snorted despite the situation.

_Yes, thank you Derek Hale, I’m aware I’m in the middle of a fucking panic attack! And if I could breathe, don’t you think I would!? It isn't that easy!!!_

Stiles thought, the water just below his mouth.

“Stiles, I’m coming in, can you unlock the stall or do I have to climb over?”

Unlocking the door would require him to get up, and Stiles just couldn’t.

He let out the first sound that wasn’t a sob or a sniffle or a snort since he ran out of the classroom, that conveyed that no, he couldn’t unlock the stall.

A moment later Derek Hale had vaulted over and into the stall.

Stiles reflexively tried to back up and hugged his legs tighter.

Derek looked at him with a blank face and Stiles felt like he could die right now of embarrassment.

Better that than drowning.

Stiles could only breathe through his nose now, soon he wouldn’t be able to breathe at all.

Derek crouched down so that he was nearly eye to eye with Stiles and close enough that if he reached out he could touch Stiles.

Thankfully, he didn’t.

But… the water was receding.

Stiles’ heart slowed down a bit as the water seemingly drained from the room.

Was Derek…?

“Stiles?”

Derek’s voice was gentle.

Stiles swallowed roughly and relaxed enough that the pressure from his arms lessened and blood rushed down to his feet again.

He nodded in small jerky motions.

Derek raised a hand and Stiles’ tensed again.

Derek lowered it and turned it so it was palm up, a ‘I’m not going to hurt you’ gesture.

Stiles relaxed and released his legs completely.

He drew in a deep shaky breath and held it in for 7 seconds before exhaling it out quickly.

His left hand came up and rubbed at his wet eyes and cheeks.

How embarrassing.

Derek gently placed his hand on Stiles’ now outstretched leg, right above his ankle.

“Are you going to be okay?”

His voice was so soft and Stiles was so confused.

Again he nodded in small jerky motions, but Derek didn’t look that convinced.

“What happened?”

Stiles froze up again and Derek’s eyes widened.

“You don’t have to tell me, where’s Scott?”

Derek rushed to say.

Stiles relaxed once more and scoffed.

He licked his chapped lips and said in a broken rough voice.

“I don’t know, probably texting Allison.”

There wasn’t any malice or jealousy in his voice, something that surprised him.

Derek frowned and his eyebrows scrunched up.

“Does he… do you get panic attacks often?”

Derek moved so he was sitting instead of crouching.

Stiles shrugged.

“Not of- they aren’t this bad normally.”

Most times they were small enough that Stiles could go on with what he was doing after a couple moments of panic and deep breathing.

“But, the water-"

Stiles cut himself off.

He had never told anyone about the water.

“The water?”

Derek echoed.

Stiles shook his head.

“It’s nothing.”

He stood up, suddenly needing to move.

His vision blacked out for a moment but he didn’t stumble.

Derek stood up too, hands raised slightly, ready to catch Stiles if he did topple over.

“I have class.”

Stiles wouldn’t look at Derek.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Derek sounded like he cared and Stiles didn’t understand anything that was going on.

“Yeah, I’ll be… fine.”

Stiles walked forward, grabbed his backpack and unlocked the stall.

He paused and without turning asked.

“What are you doing here?”

Generally confused.

“I needed to talk to Scott really quick, but it can wait. Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

Stiles stiffened.

“I’m fine, Derek.”

Derek walked out of the stall ahead of Stiles.

“Okay Stiles, I’ll let you get back to class then.”

And Derek walked out.

Stiles stood, unmoving for minutes until the bell rung.

He was not fine…

Water dripped from the ceiling hitting Stiles right on the head.

He wasn’t going to be okay.


	6. Chapter 6

Turns out that Allison comes from a whole line of hunters. 

It's in her blood.

And if Stiles thought that she was wrong, that something about her was off, then Kate Argent was corrupt and rotten to the core.

She had shot Derek, strike one.

She did not honor The Code.

(Which was apparently a thing)

Strike two.

Or, not honoring the code, strike one; shooting Derek strike two. 

Stiles shook his head,  _get your priorities in order_ , he thought.

Stike three, she had kidnapped and tortured Derek. 

If life was a baseball game Kate Argent would be out, but it's not, as life just keeps reminding him.

Kate Argent was bad news.

Stiles looked her in the eye once and they were cold and when she stared at him it felt like he was drowning, above water. 

His skin felt too tight and his bones chilled to ice.

There was something wrong with her.

There was something wrong with him.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles did know how to swim.

He did not know how he knew how to swim.

The largest body of water Stiles had ever been in was the bathtub upstairs in bathroom two doors down from his bedroom. 

And the last time that tub had been filled was before his mother had died.

When he was four years old and still just as afraid of the water coming down from the shower head as he was with sitting in belly button high water where one wrong move could render him unconscious, immobile, and where he would then drown. 

But he did know how to swim.

And he knew that deep down, almost instinctually. 

So when he dived into the swimming pool to help Derek, he could actually help. 

He didn't know why he had decided to jump in instead of grabbing his phone and calling Scott.

The creature had immobilized Derek, and he was going to drown.

And the creature was there, and it made Stiles skin crawl. 

**_It was wrong!_ **

_It was familiar._

When Stiles had jumped, he hadn't been thinking of the water- regarding himself.

He hadn't imagined himself drowning.

He had been thinking of Derek.

_'Save Derek'_   He thought.

Save Derek.

Save Derek Hale.

Broody, gloomy, intimidating Derek, who probably hated Stiles.

_Who doesn't?_

He talked too much, flailed to much, was too much. 

Save Derek. 

He went in.

He went under water.

He dove and reached Derek. 

* * *

 

 

The panic, the fear, the sinking feeling in his stomach that he had messed up, and now he was going to die hit him after he had gotten Derek's head above the water.

"I'm going to die."

Stiles gasped.

"You're not the one paralyzed from the neck down."

Derek harshly reminded him.

Stiles wasn't listening.

"I don't want to drown."

He whimpered.

Derek opened his mouth, about to say something sarcastic, but the way Stiles' heart was beating too fast and the genuine terror rolling off him in waves made Derek close his mouth.

"I don't see the creature, can you get us over to the side?"

He said instead.

Stiles nodded and focused on moving the two of them. 

"Wait, wait." 

Stiles stopped abruptly. 

The creature prowled along the edge of the pool.

"What's he waiting for?"

Stiles asked already thinking of how a death via a supernatural creature would be better than drowning. 

The creature approached the pool and dipped a clawed limb in before hastily pulling it out and hissing.

"Maybe he can't swim."

Derek suggested.

"Maybe's he's afraid of the water."

Stiles offered in return.

Derek cast him a sideways look.

"Like how you're afraid of the water?"

Stiles' heart stuttered.

"I'm not-"

"Yes, you are, you reek of fear." 

_Goddamn, werewolves._

"Look, what matters now is that we're safe."

Stiles was going to ignore that, just like he ignored all of his problems.

Or, well, he tried to.

"For now."

Stiles huffed and glared at the man he was holding up to save him from DROWNING.

"Must you always be a downer?"

"I'm being realistic, Stiles."

Stiles didn't look at Derek; he kept his eyes on the creature.

Derek didn't call him Stiles usually.

Stiles glanced at where his phone lay, abandoned. 

"I could call Scott, get him to save us." 

Derek looked at him then at his phone.

"No."

Stiles shifted, so Derek's arm was more secure around his shoulders.

"Why not?"

Stiles was already planning it out.

"I don't think I can hold you up much longer."

"No, don't even think about it."

"Would you just trust me this once?"

Derek had trusted him before, not willingly and grudgingly, but still."

"No."

"I'm the one keeping you alive, okay, have you noticed that? I'm the reason you hadn't drowned to death!"

"Yeah. And when the paralysis wears off, who is gonna be able to fight that thing, you or me? You don't trust me I don't trust you."

Stiles did, though, he shouldn't trust Derek, but he did.

"You need me to survive, which is why you are not letting me go."

Stiles looked at Derek then his phone.

Derek wouldn't drown, Stiles wouldn't let that happen, but he needed to get to his phone.

"Stiles!"

Stiles let Derek go and swam to the edge of the pool. 

_How long could a werewolf hold it's breath?_

He grabbed his phone, narrowly avoiding that thing's claws.

"Scott!"

'I can't talk right now.'

_click_. 

"What?" 

Stiles gaped at his phone, fucking werewolves!

He looked at his phone then down at Derek, then his phone. 

_Fuck it_ , he thought and threw his phone.

He dived for Derek and brought him back to the surface.

"Tell me you got him!"

Was the first thing Derek said, not 'thanks for not leaving me to drown, Stiles, I really appreciate it.'

Stiles didn't answer.

_Fuck._

 

"I can't stay up any longer."

He was going to die.

They were going to die.

Drowning.

Just like in his dreams.

"I need something to hold on to."

He looked around the room wildly and spotted the diving block.

He tried to get them over.

He couldn't grab on.

They went under.

Then it was over; Scott saved them, and the creature ran away.

Stiles was... disappointed. 

That final moment before Scotty had pulled him out of the water, before he had succumbed to unconsciousness Stiles had felt peace. 

Something was seriously wrong with him.


	8. Chapter 8

His dad.

His father.

His only remaining family member.

_ Could have been faster. _

_ Could have been better. _

_ Could have saved him. _

_ Could have... _

He knew there was something about Jennifer. 

Something off, something horribly, horribly wrong. 

The water gushed out from around her in large bursts that created waves. 

And it was dark, ugly, polluted green. 

She had made him sick, actually sick. 

But no, no one believed him. 

Jennifer Blake was a harmless teacher, she was too nice, and too attractive, too innocent. 

And now she had his father.

And she would do to him what she had done with all the others. 

Kill him, for a sacrifice. 

Stiles couldn’t let that happen.

He would do anything, and if that means that he has to sacrifice himself then so be it.

Even if the sacrifice is drowning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi. not dead. yay


	9. Chapter 9

His father was safe.

Mellissa was safe.

Even Chris Argent was safe.

But…

Stiles had drowned.

In his “let’s find the nemeton” dream the woods were flooded and Stiles was underwater.

Completely underwater.

And what scared him the most was that he hadn’t been scared within the dream.

While dreaming, while drowning, while giving the nemeton power, while underwater Stiles had felt…

Safe.

It was familiar, the moving water felt cool and calming against his skin.

It felt like home.

It made him feel invincible.

Up until his dream-self found the nemeton.

The water came crashing down, dispersing into the ground leaving Stiles gasping for breath until he could stand up once again.

Even as the water soaked into the ground, disappearing Stiles still felt powerful.

The nemeton seemed to call to him.

But then the temperature dropped and the feeling was lost.

Instead of feeling powerful it felt as if he was being drained.

And just before he awoke he saw a dark figure slink out on top of the nemeton and it whispered something he couldn’t quite make out.

And that chill, that feeling of something being sucked out of him stayed with him even after they warmed up from their ice baths.


	10. Chapter 10

There was something there.

Something in the corner of Stiles' eye.

Something in the back of his mind.

Something whispering incoherent words.

Something pulling everything out of him.

 

He was twitchy, jumpy, and paranoid.

He's been sleeping more than he has over the past years, since Scott was bitten, and his life went to shit.

But even though he sleeps for 10 hours at a time he's exhausted.

Bone-tired.

Drained.

 

Sometimes he wakes up, and he isn't sure if he was really awake; that anything’s real.

There’s no water anymore.

He’s not as ecstatic as he thought he’d be.

If feels like part of him is missing.

He’s too tired and too nervous to care.

 

His dad had been around constantly for about a week after the almost-sacrifice at the nemeton.

_He probably did it out of guilt for all the times he ignored you and didn't trust you and got mad at you about your lies._

 

Something was there.

But now his father was at work, busier than ever.

So even though the sheriff noticed how much skinny his son was getting, how prominent the bags under his eyes were, he didn't say anything because Stiles' grades weren't affected and there had been no supernatural threats that took him out of the house.

So Stile's father said nothing.

Sometimes Stiles thought about telling Scott or Lydia or Allison.

Hell, he even thought about telling Derek or Deaton or Peter; late at night when Stiles wasn't sure if he was awake or still trapped in a new layer of his reoccurring nightmares, when he was crying and rocking back and forth, back and forth.

 

 

He wasn't dreaming about himself drowning anymore now that the water was gone.

Now he witnessed himself dragging his father down into a dark depth.

Now he watched as he held down Scott's wriggling body as bubbles escaped his mouth, until Scott became still.

He found Lydia, face down floating in the pool.

He saw himself locking Isaac in his basement's freezer as the whole room flooded.

He looked on as Melissa flailed around then sank down out at sea.

He watched Allison slip, fall, and drown in the bath.

He stood in the middle of the road and watched as Parish's car swerved to avoid hitting him, sending Parish over a guardrail straight into a high, fast moving river below.

He saw Derek...

 

But Stiles kept quiet, he suffered in silent fear, because Allison was being haunted by her dead aunt and Scott couldn't control his alpha abilities.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

The figure in the mirror stared back.

 It wasn't him; it wore his face, it had his body, but it was not him.

 It's eyes were black, it's skin too pale- looking near translucent with the dark purple veins under the surface.

 It's grin was too sinister, too predatory, too psychotic to be his.

 It's teeth were sharp, pointy, shark-like; too many teeth in its mouth.

 The only thing about the figure before him that was his was it's hair, wild and messy, a color of dark brown that needed to be washed.


End file.
